Confessions of a Lycan
by Philomela Kellswater
Summary: An interview with our favourite lycan. He tells a human girl about his life. From the very beginning.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Underworld, everything you recognise belong to Len Wiseman, Danny McBride and Sony.

This is an idea I've had in my head for months, and then SVT 1 sent _Interview with the Vampire_, and I realised somebody had already done it. But not with these characters, and it's olny the idea I'm "borrowing", so I guess that it's not really copying, is it? If it is, my sincerest apologies to Anne Rice.

**Confessions of a Lycan**

_London, not very long ago_

"That's a beautiful moon tonight, don't you think?" the werewolf by the window asked, his back turned to the human girl sitting at the table.

"Yeah, I guess," the girl replied.

"It'll be full next week" the werewolf went on, still staring out at the moon above the rooftops.

"And then you'll turn into a large hairy monster and hunt and eat humans all night?" the girl guessed, turning her gaze from the computer in front of her to the werewolf. From behind, he looked perfectly human to her. She hadn't seen his face clearly in the dark street below, but from what she had been able to tell, it hadn't looked very extraordinary. According to her, he looked like any other man she had met, there was nothing exceptional with him, at least not from what she could judge by his looks. But then, she thought, appearances can be deceiving.

"No, I will not," the werewolf replied. "Once, I would have been forced to, by the eternal pull of the moon, but now, I've lived long enough to be able to resist it."

"Oh, really?" the girl asked. "And how long is that?"

"Why don't you have a guess?" the werewolf said, turning around to face her. The girl by the table looked curiously at him, trying to judge his age. He had green-grey eyes, dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. If it wasn't for his eyes, which were all-seeing and full of knowledge and experience, she would have guessed at twenty-five. But then, those eyes…

"You don't look much older than thirty, maybe thirty-five," she said, a little hesitantly. The werewolf smiled a little.

"Would you believe me, if I told you I'm almost 1300 years old?"

"Of course not," the girl said.

"Then what's the point of telling you the story of my life, if you can't even believe me when I tell you something not too difficult to believe?"

"Well, excuse me, if I doubt your age, but it's simply not possible to be that old."

"Possible?" the werewolf asked.

"Yes, possible, or in this case, impossible."

"Really, is that truly impossible?"

"Yes, you can't be that old," the girl stated, a look of stubborn determination on her face.

"What do you know of what's impossible, you're not even grown-up yet. You're just a human girl, who knows nothing of life. But if you don't' believe me, it's up to you. But then, there's no point of you hearing my story," the werewolf said. The girl almost thought she could hear a trace of disappointment in his voice. She shook her head, didn't know what to believe. But then, what the heck, why could she just not accept it for now, she could wonder about his, and her own, state of mind later.

"All right, I believe you, for now" the girl said.

"Very well. Then I suppose I should begin with my story. And please, don't hesitate if there's anything you don't understand. I take it that English is not your native language?"

"How could you know?" the girl said, surprised.

"There's the slightest hint of an accent when you speak, but I suppose an ordinary human wouldn't hear it. And then, you smell differently than the English people."

"You have a good sense of smell?" the girl asked, smiling a little.

"Better than both dogs and wolves" the werewolf said.

"Oh really? How about your sense of hearing? According to some tales, werewolves are supposed to have an excellent hearing," the girl said, looking straight at him.

"I can hear your heart beat from across this room" the werewolf answered, still a small smile on his face. The girl nodded slowly.

"So, I take it we start at the beginning?" the werewolf said, his smile slowly fading.

"Yes, that would probably be the easiest way. So, who are you?" the girl said, turning away from him to adjust some settings on her PowerBook G4.

"I was the leader of the lycan pack," the werewolf said, also turning around to gaze out on the city below him.

"Lichen?" the girl asked, frowning a little. To her knowledge, lichen was growing on old trees in mountains of her own country. The werewolf chuckled.

"Yes, lycan," he said, spelling it out to her. "It's another word for werewolf, the one we ourselves prefer. It's from lycanthropy. You know what that is, don't you?" The girl nodded again, again turning around to face him. This guy really believed he was a werewolf, or a lycan, as he called it.

"Just to make things a little easier, could you please tell me your name?" the girl asked, a little hesitantly.

"Very well, as you wish," the lycan said, turning around, and gazing at her with those grey eyes, those eyes which had made her want to interview him in the first place. They spoke of almost inhuman sadness. And then he went on speaking.

"My name is Lucian. I was born in slavery to vampires, was almost killed for loving a vampire lady, ran away, started a war, was supposedly killed in 1409, but were instead in league with a vampire, laid low for six centuries, and then this vampire actually tried to kill me, I almost died again, but lived on. And here I am, former lycan master, supposedly dead _twice_, and my name is still Lucian."

"Would you mind telling me that again, a little slower, and with the slightest amount of details?" the girl asked.

"I would not mind that at all," Lucian said, beginning again, to tell her the true, painful story of his life.

**To be continued…**

Now, please do me a favour, and review. The faster you review, the faster the next chapter will be up.


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Underworld, everything you recognise belong to Len Wiseman, Danny McBride and Sony. This was inspired by Anne Rice's _Interview with the Vampire_, and if she minds, my sincerest apologies. I'm not making any money, and I don't have any either, which means it won't be worth the trouble sewing me…

Since all my reviewers asked me to update, I will. Here it is. Sorry it's so late, I've been rather busy lately.

**Confessions of a Lycan**

_London, not very long ago_

"Do you know of the Carpathian mountains?" the lycan asked. The girl nodded. Geography had never been a favourite subject at school, but she knew of these mountains, which went through countries such as Poland, Hungary and Romania.

"Somewhere in those mountains," the lycan continued, "there's a fortress, which few humans have ever seen, and even fewer have returned to tell about. Because this fortress was inhabited by vampires."

"Vampires?" the girl asked.

"Vampires," the lycan confirmed. "But lycans also lived there. We were their slaves, their servants. I was born in servitude. My people guarded the vampires against the sun, it's light is lethal to them."

"They burn in sunlight?" the girl asked.

"They do. Oh yes, they do. They burn to dust within seconds. After no more than fifteen, maybe twenty seconds in the sun, vampires are nothing but ashes and dust," there was something in his voice, that made her look at him curiously, but he faced the window and not her, which meant she couldn't guess what caused him to sound so… sad.

"Fifteen seconds," the girl repeated. That was not much.

"It could be even less, " the lycan said, "but the first time I ever saw it happen, I wasn't really in a state where I thought of counting seconds. And after that, I've never stayed to see it happen. It's a very efficient way of killing a vampire. Just throw them into sunlight and leave. I've done that many times."

"You have? But you said, you were their slave?" the girl pointed out.

"We were slaves until the year of 1405, when we escaped. And after that, we spent six centuries killing each other on sight."

The girl shuddered in her chair. For some reason, the thought of being burned alive made her want to vomit violently. And leaving people to that fate… What kind of person was this Lucian, really?

"Maybe it will be much easier for you, if I just tell from the beginning, not starting in the middle," the lycan said, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps," was the girl's answer.

"Anyway, this fortress in the Carpathian mountains. The master of the vampires there was Viktor. He was the strongest of the three Elders."

"Elders?" the girl asked.

"Yes. They were the oldest and strongest of all the vampires. They ruled over all the other vampires, one at a time. Two slept, and one ruled. One century of ruling, two centuries asleep. Things had been that way for a long time, before it stopped."

"Why did it?" the girl asked.

"We'll take that later. That's in present time, you see."

"And when is present time, when one is as old as you claim to be?" the girl asked.

"All will be relieved in time, if you allow me to go on telling, that is," the lycan said. The girl thought she could see him smile a little, but since she saw so little of his face, it was impossible to determine if he actually was smiling, or if she was just imagining things.

"Please, do go on," she said. He was silent for a while, and then went on telling.

"I lived at Viktor's fortress from the day I was born. Beneath the fortress, there were endless cellars, in which the lycan slaves lived. According to my memories from my childhood, there were thousands of lycans down there, but of course, they were much fewer. My mind keeps playing tricks. And when I say those cellars were endless, it's from a child's point of view." The lycan went silent. The girl said nothing. She knew, that he had to collect his thoughts and memories, before he could tell her about them. She had interviewed a lot of people, despite her age, and she knew he had to be given time to think about what to say next. The girl looked past his silhouette through the window, watching the city below them. And then she turned her gaze to the sky, and saw that he had indeed been right. It was a beautiful moon tonight. The lycan sighed, seeming to have gathered his memories once more.

"When I was only a pup, I lived with my mother in a small room. And that is not my mind messing things up, the room was small, they all were. My father died a few months before I was born, fighting humans trying to attack him while he was looking after the cattle. You see, the vampires held sheep and cows, to drink their blood instead of innocent human's."

"Disgusting!" the girl exclaimed.

"Drinking blood?" the lycan asked, sounding slightly puzzled.

"No, but keeping cattle just to drink blood!" the girl said, her facing looking as disgusted as her voice sounded.

"You humans keep cattle for meat, the lycan pointed out. The girl looked perplexed.

"That's not the same thing," she tried.

"No, I suppose it isn't. You kill the animal before you eat it. They didn't. The vampires have to drain blood when the sheep or cow still alive, you see. Otherwise, the animal is likely to take the vampire with it in death. But cutting an animal's throat open isn't a very nice job, I can assure you. I remember finding the shrieks from the animals in pain horrible." A few moments of silence. And then the girl thought of something.

"You said they 'didn't' kill the animals before they drank the blood.. What are they doing now, then?" the girl asked.

"Lately, the vampires have begun to subsist on cloned human blood. They even have their own company to produce it. Which is much more practical, since they haven't got lycan slaves to take care of the cattle anymore." The lycan went silent once more.

"You said you lived with your mother. You didn't have any brothers or sisters?" the girl asked carefully.

"Not that lived beyond infancy. The way we lived, they way the vampires treated us, was not that good, which meant few lycans survived childhood. Now that I think back of it, I think that was just what Viktor wanted."

"How do you mean?" the girl asked.

"Viktor knew how loyal we were towards each other. We wasn't just a pack, but one big family. He knew, that if we were many enough, we would simply run away. You see, the reason they made us their slaves to begin with, was the fact that we had a common enemy. The humans and their priests, who were, and still are, terrified of anything abnormal. Before made slaves, we were running free, but the vampires feared we would draw attention to lycans and vampires alike, and be the ruin of us all. They feared the wooden stakes and the fires, being burned as Satan's helpers. They were so vulnerable during daylight. So they made us their slaves, to guard them against sunlight." And then, he stopped talking once more.

**To be continued…**

As always, the more reviews I get, the faster next chapter is up.


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Underworld, everything you recognise belong to Len Wiseman, Danny McBride and Sony. This was inspired by Anne Rice's _Interview with the Vampire_, and if she minds, my sincerest apologies. I'm not making any money, and I don't have any either, which means it won't be worth the trouble sewing me…

Thanks to all my reviewers, and I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but my inspiration was gone for a while.

**Confessions of a Lycan**

_London, not very long ago_

"But, of course, this happened before I was born. But my mother told me tales of this, as everybody did. Nobody wanted our history to disappear into oblivion. Because in secret, we all thought it was treachery. They took advantage of the situation," the lycan said.

"But how is that possible? I mean, according to the myths, you can turn into some kind of monstrous wolves. Wouldn't it be easy to just run away, or slay the vampires on the spot?" the girl asked. This time, she was certain the wasn't making things up. He was smiling. it was not full of warmth, and it didn't seem altogether real, but just sad.

"Well, actually, at the time, few lycans survived more than a century, and the ability to Change comes with age, which meant we simply weren't old and strong enough to Change whenever we wanted. All of us were forced to change on the night of the full moon."

"I see," the girl said, nodding.

"No, you don't see!" the lycan burst out. "You have no idea what it's like to be forced to transform by the eternal pull of the moon! Don't pretend to understand this, because you surely don't!" The lycan had turned to face her once more, and she was surprised to see that his eyes had changed. From a light grey to cobalt blue, glowing with an almost electric light in the dark.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. She had began to believe him now, that he truly was a werewolf, and she really didn't want to upset him. The lycan turned away, breathing heavily, and when he faced her again after a moment, his eyes were back to normal.

"No, I'm sorry. I really must apologise, I am usually in more control of myself. But you see, this is not easy to talk about."

"Of course not. _That_ I can understand. Please, go on telling."

"Where were I? Oh, yes, the fact that we had no chance of escaping. The vampires did guard us very well, making sure we weren't able to run away. And there was the threat, too. If a lycan ran away, his family would be punished. This might make them sound like sadistic maniacs, but most of them actually liked the thought of a lycan being whipped." He paused for a moment. "Silver whips. Lycans are very allergic to silver, it's extremely lethal. It burns like hell, if you want to know." He actually managed to smile when he said that. And then he stopped talking again, looking as if he wasn't sure how to proceed. They both were silent for a minute or two. And then he went on.

"The vampires had, except for their lycan guardians, warriors of their own kind, to whom less, how shall I put it, dirty missions were given. They had us to do their dirty work, these vampire warriors, or Death Dealers, as hey called themselves, where mostly personal guards to the Elders, their families, and other vampire aristocrats. And of course, the council. They were a number of older nobles, which helped the Elder in charge to rule. Larger decisions could not be made without the council's approve." He stopped talking again, and he remained silent for five minutes or more. He looked at the girl by the table, and he saw how she tried to hide how tired she was. He glanced the watch by the wall. It was very late, even for him.

"How about stop there, and continue tomorrow night?" he said. The girl smiled a little.

"Do I look that tired?" she asked.

"Actually, you look as if you're about to fall of that chair," the lycan answered, smiling too.

"All right, let's call it a night and quit for now. Shall we say tomorrow night, same place, eight o'clock?"

"That we'll be fine," the lycan said. The girl turned off her computer and put it in her bag.

"And, by the way," the lycan said as they walked out of the apartment, "you haven't told me your name."

"I haven't? How impolite of me, I'm really sorry. My name is Jazlyn Frost."

"Jazlyn. That's not a very ordinary name, is it?" the lycan said thoughtfully.

"No, I suppose not," the girl said, shrugging. When they were out on the street, the lycan disappeared into the shadows, and the girl went back to her own apartment to get some sleep.

**The End**

That's it. Because I can't finish this. So this is probably the last chapter, if I can't find inspiration for another. This just died. I'm sorry. Don't expect any updates soon. I have an epilogue, which I've been thinking of putting up, just to end it properly, but I'm not sure. I'm sorry, but I can't write anymore of this.


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